


skate night

by preromantics



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M, Gen, Holidays, Office Party, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Who even cares if you can't skate</i>, Mindy texts.</p><p>
  <i>I mean it's kinda weird, but no one is judging you</i>
</p><p>
  <i>That was a lie, there are reenactments happening; I'm filming them so you can laugh about this later</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Way later, probably</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	skate night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hardlygolden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlygolden/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, hardlygolden!

“No,” Mindy says, loudly and panicked, as soon as she sees imminent party disaster about to happen. Several people turn their heads in alarm as they skate past her. She makes faces at them.

Unfortunately, the chant of ' _Danny can't skate, Danny can't skate' –_ perpetuated by Peter two minutes into the office's skate party at Rockefeller -- quickly catches on, much to Mindy's chargin.

“Come on, seriously?” she says, skating past several people who definitely are not on the payroll gleefully chanting toward where Danny is stuck lock-kneed in the middle of the rink with several small children doing figure eights around him.

Mindy was the one who dropped the skate party idea into the office party pool hat (several times, in different wording, different handwriting and two typed and cut for good measure, on different paper to be sure her idea would actually be picked) and she had grand plans about it. Something amazing and future memoir-worthy was bound to happen at a locale like this, surrounded by all of her friends. Coworkers, most barely tolerated, but Mindy could always exaggerate for memoir memory purposes.

Regardless, it's barely five minutes into the party and everything is already a disaster. Mindy can feel her dreams of gracefully sprawling onto the ice after an almost collision with her future at-least-catalog-model-handsome future husband, hair fanned out like a beautiful dark halo as he leans over her with snow falling on his tousled hair as he rolls up his J. Crew pea coat sleeve to wave his fingers in front of her face and check that she's isn't concussed and – Danny. The chanting has caught on and is beginning to sound like an episode of The Sing Off, and Mindy needs to get on top of that.

“Move it, can't you see I'm trying to rescue someone?” Mindy says, physically splitting up a couple holding hands and staring dreamily into each other's eyes or whatever who end up in her way as she makes her way to center of the ice.

She skates over to the edge of the rink, going to cut into the middle from the side, and catches Jeremy leaning against the wall and merrily chanting along with Morgan. She gives Jeremy a cool up-and-down with a perfectly arched brow (she's been practicing in the mirror, ever since some uppity in a Starbucks completely and unnecessarily made fun of her drink order and Mindy caught her own reflection in a milk steamer when she came back with a witty retort; she came to the horrifying realization that her eyebrow arching needed serious work and she's since perfected it).

“You're wearing kneepads and elbow pads from the skate rental place,” Mindy says. “I don't really think you should be helping ruin this wonderful, anonymous idea for the office non-denominational holiday party.”

Jeremy shrugs and flails, catching himself against Morgan and sliding down to chest-height. If Mindy weren't already busy doing damage control on one thing, she'd mourn the loss of a perfect office party video clip montage moment.

Eventually, after a minute more maneuvering through tourists, Mindy breaks through the children circling Danny like little sharks and slides up to his side.

“The chanting is really mature,” Danny says. He's got one of his glares going, somewhere between Glare Number 7: 're-reading Mindy's creative office email blast titles with a deadpan voice', and Glare Number 9: 'line at the gross shady hot dog stand is too long'. Mindy will have to consult her phone note breakdown of Danny's glares to be sure, later.

“Which is why we have to get you away from the middle of the ice,” Mindy says, extending an arm. “Before the entire atmosphere is ruined.”

Danny declines to take her arm, instead tipping his head up and groaning. “I knew this had to be your party idea. Anything else would have been better. Anything.”

Mindy rolls her eyes and grabs his arm anyway to start skating them toward the side of the rink. “Right, like the other choices weren't sports bars or strip clubs. Not that there is anything wrong with watching strong, independent women gyrated in elf and santa costumes, but come on.”

A total stranger follows them as Mindy drags an indigent Danny along behind her, absently chanting ' _Danny can't skate, Danny can't skate'_ and Danny looks absolutely murderous by the time they hit the wall.

“I'm gonna go,” Danny says.

Mindy makes a face. “What, no. Just stay here. Mingle. Get some chestnuts or something. This office excursion can still be saved.”

“I can't skate, okay? What's the point?”

“The point is spreading cheer among your coworkers and giving everyone something to rave about on Monday during the post-weekend conversation lull.”

“Eh,” says Danny.

“Stay,” Mindy says, holding eye contact until she's reasonably certain Danny understands on a deep level that Mindy needs him to stay so the entire fabric of Mindy's plans for this party aren't ruined. The special delivery of cups of artisan mac and cheese from one of the best food trucks in Brooklyn she arranged hasn't even happened yet.

The chant dies down and cuts off completely easily enough once Danny is no longer standing stock-still and deer-eyed in the center of the ice, just like Mindy had hoped. She skates over, first, to wordlessly punch Pete in the arm for starting the whole thing before looping back around to find Danny and offer to give him the fake mustache she has with her at all times in her purse (for Instagram opportunities, obviously), if he wants to stop being _Danny-can't-skate_ -Danny for a little while.

Except Danny is gone by the time she circles around the rink. He doesn't answer any of her texts, either, which quickly becomes a danger to Mindy's life. A no texting and skating quickly becomes part of the night.

The skate party idea actually goes pretty well. Besty turns out to be a secretly amazing skater, the whole mac and cheese food truck surprise goes over amazingly, especially when Morgan procures a loudspeaker from somewhere to yell in people's faces

Still, it's not the same without Danny.

 _Who even cares if you can't skate_ Mindy texts.

_I mean it's kinda weird, but no one is judging you_

_That was a lie, there are reenactments happening; I'm filming them so you can laugh about this later_

_Way later, probably_

_There's traditional egg nog! santa emoji_

_I know you can't get emojis on your relic of a phone so just imagine a jolly santa face_

_Morgan put stuff you like in the egg nog, it needs more sugar now BUT i'm partaking to continue the office bonding experience which you clearly don't care about_

_Tamra just got interviewed for NY1 they said they couldn't interview me :(_

_Is it still racial profiling if they chose her over me_

_Besty found sugar packets the e gnog is besty now_

_Come skaaaaaaaate_

“Hey, Mindy,” Betsy says, shaking her shoulder where Mindy is sitting hunched over her phone on a bench near the end of the rink. “Everyone is leaving now.”

“Yeah, totally, be right there,” Mindy says; she's composing her last imploring text of the night to Danny and the words and her fingers are not working right for some reason.

She gets distracted staring up at the city-stars (surrounding office and apartment window lights, some blinking out one by one) a few minutes later and ends up lying flat on the bench, too warm from 'nog to remember how disgusting public benches are.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Mindy almost falls off the bench when Danny's face appears over hers.

“I was just thinking about you, Castellano,” Mindy says, belatedly realizing it sounds weird and is a little too honest.

“Besty told me I should probably come collect you,” Danny says, extending a hand for Mindy to grasp. “Up you go.”

“I don't need collecting,” Mindy says, but leans her weight on Danny to stand up and defeats the point. She still has her skates on, which makes her wobbly.

“No more egg nog,” Danny says, steadying her.

“It's the skates, duh,” Mindy says. “I'm completely fine.” She wobbles a little more when Danny lets go and has to reach out and catch his arm. “Whatever,” she says, at his side-eye, “I could still skate circles around you right now, Mr. Can't-Skate.”

“Really witty,” Danny says.

Mindy looks out at the rink, which is clear save for a few people doing laps and one couple spinning around in the middle. There are people sweeping around the sides, cleaning benches and switching out the trash.

“Come on,” Mindy says, tugging urgently on Danny's arms. “Let's go before they close. Literally no one will chant at you this time. Probably.”

“Yeah right,” Danny says. “I'm just here to perform my public service duty and get you home before you end up in jail.”

Mindy punches him in the arm. “One time! One time a person happens to be a little drunk and riding a bike and in someone's pool and then in jail.”

Danny makes a face at her. Mindy snatches her hands back and crosses her arms. She wobbles again, but finds her balance.

“Fine,” she says. “Just for that, you'll have to come and get me.”

“What,” Danny says, but Mindy has already made up her mind, darting with pointed steps to the closest opening to the rink and stepping out on the ice.

“You'll have to _collect_ me from the center,” she says, skating backwards.

“Seriously? Mindy, come on, that's not funny. They're closing. I don't have skates!”

Mindy sticks her tongue out and Danny shakes his head, looks skyward and rolls his eyes before grabbing the edge of the rink and gently stepping out on the ice in his sneakers. 

"Come on, Mindy," he says. 

"You look like a little baby deer," Mindy says. She stops in the middle of the rink and gets her phone out, suddenly realizing she has something that definitely needs to be documented: Danny Castellano walking on ice like a little baby deer to come and get her from the middle. It's almost rom-commy enough to make her feel sort of too-warm under her jacket, but that's probably the residual spiked egg nog. Probably. 

Danny stops mid-step when he realizes she's filming him, face settling into Glare Number 4: 'Mindy doing a thing'. "Seriously, you're filming this? I'll leave you there."

"No you won't," Mindy says. She knows it's true when she says it, and the egg nog heat kicks up a bit.

Ignoring the warmth, Mindy waves her phone toward him intending to taunt him into coming forward to grab her phone. She's not worried he could delete the video; worst case scenario he'd just accidentally send it out to everyone on her contacts and it would be hilarious. 

Except Danny never makes it to her to snatch her phone; instead, Mindy wobbles and completely looses her balance, arms flailing and phone dropping to the ground. 

She knows she's going to hit the ice before it happens, a sad reminder of her original grand plans for the evening; bumping into her catalog-handsome future husband out on the ice in an adorable non-injuring meetcute, before she feels Danny slide into her, hands gripping her waist but not getting there in time.

 

-

 

Mindy wakes up slowly, with a hell of a hangover she can't bare to open her eyes against yet. Something in her house is obnoxiously beeping, steady and close-by, somehow managing to match up with the breaths she's taking. Something heavy is also on her hand, making pins and needles crawl up and down her fingers and palm as she comes into awareness of her limbs.

She blinks, once, catches a ceiling with a waterstain that definitely is not her bedroom and prompt jolts fully and painfully awake. 

Hospital bed. Danny Castellano's heavy head killing important circulation in her hand -- scratch that, in their clasped hands. The obnoxious beeping grows louder and faster before Mindy realizes it's obviously her heart monitor and she's three seconds away from freaking out. 

She relaxes back into her pillow and tries some meditative breathing; when that doesn't work after the first few seconds she switches over to lamaze until she feels more in her element. 

The ice skating party, she decides, was the worst idea and she will in no way own up to being the one to put the idea in the party hat. Her head is killing her and Danny -- Danny is snoring.

Closing her eyes and relaxing a little bit more into her awful hospital pillow, Mindy can just make out the moment of her fall, and Danny's face above her, holding out fingers and twisting into a panicked face that fell no where on Mindy's spectrum of Danny's facial expressions.

She looks down at where he's seriously threatening the chance of her getting out of the hospital without becoming an amputee; a worried crease in his forehead. He's going to have a really awful crick in his neck when he wakes up, but Mindy can't bring herself to disturb him. Instead she watches him sleep, egg nog heavy warmth creeping up all the way to her cheeks, making her skin feel tight with a realization she is probably on way too many painkillers to handle. 

She's just falling asleep with her eyes barely open when she notices Danny shift, his own eyes blinking open to look at her as she quickly feigns sleep. He smiles at her, soft, way off the spectrum for Danny expressions that Mindy has cataloged, and squeezes their hands together before lifting his head and moving it to the side of the mattress. 

Mindy falls back out of conciousness after that, even though half of her feels like it should be wired into disaster-eversion mode. 

 

 


End file.
